


Think I Forgot (You Love Me)

by Otter103199



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant (Mostly), Domestic Fluff, F/F, Original Character(s), Sherlock is soft for Wato, Watolock - Freeform, What is characterization?, What is grammar?, What is proofreading?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 04:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otter103199/pseuds/Otter103199
Summary: Shrill cries break the tension and Sherlock feels her brows draw together and her eyes clench shut.Wato is on her feet in an instant, rushing to the opposite side of the room leaving her to tilt her head, struggling to pick the whole situation apart piece by piece.





	Think I Forgot (You Love Me)

“No, absolutely not.” 

“But Sherlock-“

“Nope.” 

“Sher-“

“They’re annoying, irrational, smelly-“

“They don’t have anywhere else to go!”

The face Wato pulls at her is a mixture of pleading and stubborn and on anyone else Sherlock would probably just roll her eyes and shove them out the door; but this wasn't just anyone. 

“Why do you need to do this.” 

(It's not a question, because in all honesty, she knows this is a fight she's not going to win).

Shrill cries break the tension and Sherlock feels her brows draw together and her eyes clench shut. 

Wato is on her feet in an instant, rushing to the opposite side of the room leaving her to tilt her head, struggling to pick the whole situation apart piece by piece. 

-

_Nothing._

_That's what Wato feels, and in some ways, she's grateful for the reprieve from the emotional storm she'd previously been wallowing in._

  
_(She's sure it won't last long, it never does but one can hope)._

  
_Leaning against the railing looking out across the water, she debates her next move._

_It's as if she's right back where she started before meeting Sherlock; with no one to turn to and no home to escape to- and it's with that thought that she closes her eyes, releasing a shuddering breath._

_Burying her face into the rough canvas of the latter's coat, Wato remembers clearly the moment Sherlock had carelessly thrown the garment at her face, admonishing her for her appearance. The scene draws a weak smile from her._

_If she focuses hard enough, she swears she can still hear the telltale click of Sherlock's shoes, the unique tinkle of her laughter-even the smell of her perfume._

_"Are you going to ignore me all day?"_

_Eyes snapping open Wato feels her breathing stop and blood run cold._

  
_Could it be?_

_The familiar voice lets out a long sigh. "This isn't exactly the reaction I was looking for, are you even happy to see me again?"_

_Wato can feel the person settling next to her and straightens her posture ever so slightly._

_She's lost her mind, that much she's sure of._

_Sherlock is dead._

_Wato saw it with her own eyes the, moment Sherlock jumped over the ledge with Dr. Irikawa, the covered gurney, the anguish in detective Reimon's eyes-_

_No. You're not real._

_Wato shakes her head furiously, throat tightening as she bites back tears._

_The second she feels alright, her subconscious plays a dirty trick like this on her._

_She can't believe it. She won't believe it-_

_"Wato."_

_(And it's like a dam has broken because the sob that racks her body is painful and she can't stop the jerk of her hand colliding with- with whatever this apparition is)._

_The contacts feels real and the silence that follows feels real too- but Wato doesn’t really trust her feelings anymore._

_The woman turns her head slowly back towards her, face scrunched in pain and holding her reddening cheek._

_“It can’t be…” Wato sniffles and shakes her head once more._

_“Yes. It can.” The smile that the woman shoots her is practically blinding, and Wato can’t stand it. As the woman gets closer, Wato finds herself taking step backwards._

_Sherlock was never one to really ever explain herself, she never felt the need to. This time is no different._

_Except it is, because she can’t let Wato go._

_Can’t let her go back to Syria._

_Can’t allow her be hurt anymore than she already is._

_(But Sherlock and words and emotions don’t mix well, this is a fact, so she does the next best thing)._

_Reaching into her coat pocket, she retrieves a small square of chocolate and places it gently into the smaller woman’s palm._

_“Let’s go home, Wato.”_

-

That had been nearly two weeks ago, and in that short span of time, Sherlock has been on edge, carefully monitoring Wato and her reactions to things.

And she’s not the same. 

Sherlock wasn’t expecting her to be but it’s worrying just the same.

She had thought that jumping into a new case would help- would make it feel like how it was before the whole Irikawa debacle.

(She’s correct, of course, it does help and Wato seems to attack this case with her usual fervor). 

Sherlock never saw it turning out like this though.

“I don’t _need_ to do this, I _want_ to do this.” Wato stresses. 

“Where would they sleep.”

“With me upstairs. Don’t worry I’ll take care of everything. You won’t even know they’re here.” 

The two infants cradled in Wato’s grasp begin to squirm and she smiles down at them, cooing.

Sherlock thinks she should be objecting right now, because she’s very adamant in her hatred towards children; but really, who could deny the smile that stretches across Wato’s face.

(It’s full and bright and it brings out her dimples- Sherlock should really say no). 

Letting out a huff Sherlock throws herself down onto the couch. 

“Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is a mess, kinda like me, so stay tuned.


End file.
